Vendetta: a story of one forgotten eBook

“You know the rest,” I said gently; “you
understand my vengeance! But it is all over,
Guido—­all over, now! She has played
us both false. May God forgive you as I do!”

He smiled—­a soft look brightened his fast-glazing
eyes—­the old boyish look that had won my
love in former days.

“All over!” he repeated in a sort of plaintive
babble. “All over now! God—­Fabio—­forgive!—­”
A terrible convulsion wrenched and contorted his limbs
and features, his throat rattled, and stretching himself
out with a long shivering sigh—­he died!
The first beams of the rising sun, piercing through
the dark, moss-covered branches of the pine-trees,
fell on his clustering hair, and lent a mocking brilliancy
to his wide-open sightless eyes: there was a smile
on the closed lips! A burning, suffocating sensation
rose in my throat, as of rebellious tears trying to
force a passage. I still held the hand of my
friend and enemy—­it had grown cold in my
clasp. Upon it sparkled my family diamond—­the
ring she had given him. I drew the jewel
off: then I kissed that poor passive hand as I
laid it gently down—­kissed it tenderly,
reverently. Hearing footsteps approaching, I
rose from my kneeling posture and stood erect with
folded arms, looking tearlessly down on the stiffening
clay before me. The rest of the party came up;
no one spoke for a minute, all surveyed the dead body
in silence. At last Captain Freccia said, softly
in half-inquiring accents:

“He is gone, I suppose?”

I bowed. I could not trust myself to speak.

“He made you his apology?” asked the marquis.

I bowed again. There was another pause of heavy
silence. The rigid smiling face of the corpse
seemed to mock all speech. The doctor stooped
and skillfully closed those glazed appealing eyes—­and
then it seemed to me as though Guido merely slept
and that a touch would waken him. The Marquis
D’Avencourt took me by the arm and whispered,
“Get back to the city, amico, and take some wine—­you
look positively ill! Your evident regret does
you credit, considering the circumstances—­but
what would you?—­it was a fair fight.
Consider the provocation you had! I should advise
you to leave Naples for a couple of weeks—­by
that time the affair will be forgotten. I know
how these things are managed—­leave it all
to me.”

I thanked him and shook his hand cordially and turned
to depart. Vincenzo was in waiting with the carriage.
Once I looked back, as with slow steps I left the
field; a golden radiance illumined the sky just above
the stark figure stretched so straightly on the sward;
while almost from the very side of that pulseless heart
a little bird rose from its nest among the grasses
and soared into the heavens, singing rapturously as
it flew into the warmth and glory of the living, breathing
day.